Tuesdays and Apple Juice
by Red Justice
Summary: Dirk Strider doesn't really care about much in life. All that really matters is surviving. And irony, of course. Irony always matters. But things change once he meets Jane Crocker. (Set in an AU. Warning for typical Homestuck language, of course)
1. Chapter 1

Dirk first met the Crocker girl on a Tuesday.

It wasn't a good Tuesday, either. Not the kind that lets one sit outside and bask in the sun, appreciating the fact that the dreaded curse of monday has finally faded away, and that everything was that much closer to the end of the week. No, it was not that freeing, relaxing kind of Tuesday. Instead it was a cold, cruel kind of Tuesday, one that blew at you with its fierce winds and reminded you that there were still three days between this day and the end of the week, and that it was going to drown you in rain and misery in the meantime.

Those were the kinds of Tuesdays that Dirk hated with a fierce passion. They were the ones that made him skip school so he could stare out his window all day long and dream of better Tuesdays, of better worlds altogether. They were also the ones that made him realize that life, the universe, and everything in general were full of bull shit.

So really, it was almost a miracle that he was outside on that one particular Tuesday. In fact, Dirk would have called it a miracle himself, but he didn't talk about those things. Not since his conversation with that faygo-drinking clown in the alley. There was no coming back from that.

But yes, he was outside. They were out of apple juice back at home, and Dirk's younger bro would lose his shit if he came home and discovered that there was no more AJ. So it was Dirk's job to save the day yet again.

He dug his hands into the pockets of his orange jacket as he trudged down the street, head lowered to guard against the wind. The outside world smelled of garbage and hobo urine and really everything that was wrong with the world, and the sky glared down at him with all of its grey shittyness. Rain splattered against the top of his head as he walked, running down his face and covering his pointed shades with tiny drops. Great, because he really needed that right now.

Before long he had reached the grocery store, stepping inside as quickly as possible. He shivered. He was wet and freezing and couldn't see for shit and life was horrible. This was why he never went outside in the rain.

He checked his watch: 2:47. He had a good 43 minutes until his bro would get out of class. "Alright, Strider," He muttered under his breath. "Time to get this done."

With that he headed down the closest aisle, searching its racks for any kind of apple juice. They had to have the stuff somewhere, right?

"Need any help?"

Dirk turned to find himself facing... well, someone. He wasn't entirely sure who they were, honestly, and that wasn't helped by the fact that his shades were still covered with drops of water. From what he could tell, it was a girl, someone around his age, and she was carrying a shit load of bread in her shopping cart. Well whoever she was, she probably wasn't important.

"No, I'm good," He waved off the question.

"You sure? I know this store pretty well, so I could help you find whatever you're looking for!"

He was about to refuse again, but something about this girl's voice caught his attention. He knew that voice...

"Wait a second, are you that Crocker kid? The one in those ads?"

"Yup, that's me!" The girl revealed her buck teeth as she smiled. "Jane Crocker, at your service! You're Dave Strider's older brother, right?"

Now this was interesting. Jane Crocker was pretty famous in this area: after all, she was the heir to the Betty Crocker company and the fortune that lay behind it. Dirk only knew her from the occasional commercial, but she was supposed to be a big deal. So much so that he had heard rumours of a few attempts on her life.

He raised his eyebrow. "How do you know about my bro?"

"Oh, he hangs out with my cousin John sometimes," Jane replied, adjusting her glasses. "He talks about you, you know."

"Does he?" Dirk responded. "I didn't know I was so famous."

Jane laughed. "Yeah. So you're sure you don't need any help?"

"To be honest, I could probably use a little assistance," Dirk admitted. "You know where I could find the apple juice?"

"Sure, just follow me!" She gave him a quick smile and led him to the end of the aisle, where a veritable armada of apple juice bottles sat ready for the buying. She did a small bow and pointed to the juice with both her arms, as if she was showing him the Holy Grail of all apple juice. "There you go!"

"Thanks," Dirk nodded his appreciation. "It's kind of hard to see when my shades are this messed up."

"So why don't you just take them off?" Jane asked. "It's not that hard, you know."

"And let everyone see my eyes?" Dirk chuckled. "No thanks."

"Oh, sorry," Jane apologized. "I should have assumed you'd feel the same way about your eyes as Dave does."

"Hey, no worries. I don't expect everyone to know how I work."

They both stood there in silence for a second, neither one being sure what to say.

Jane cleared her throat. "Well, I should probably get going..."

"All on your own?" Dirk asked. "Isn't that pretty dangerous for the Baking Heiress extraordinaire?"

"No, I'll be fine," Jane promised. "I can handle myself pretty well, you know."

Dirk raised his hands in surrender. "Whatever you say, Crocker."

Jane smiled. "Well, I have to go. Talk to you later?"

Dirk gave her a nod. "You got it."

"Good!" She waved and turned to go, quickly disappearing into the masses of people milling around.

Dirk picked a bottle of apple juice from the rack and began to head to the nearest counter. That had gone well.

**Later...**

It was 3:50. Dirk heard the door to his apartment slam, and the sounds of footsteps stomping over to the kitchen. Looked like Dave was back.

"I'm home, if anyone cares!"

Yup. Definitely Dave.

The kitchen door flew open and in the kid came, dropping his backpack on the floor and heading straight for the fridge. He opened the cooling unit and stuck his head inside.

"Bro, where the fuck is the AJ?"

"And a good afternoon to you too," Dirk replied casually, his feet resting on the kitchen counter. "You didn't tell me you knew Jane Crocker."

Dave removed his head from the fridge. "John's cousin? Yeah, she's pretty cool. Why do you care?"

"Met her at the grocery store today," Dirk pulled the apple juice out of his jacket pocket. "She helped me get this." He tossed the beverage to Dave.

"Sweet," Dave caught the bottle with ease. "Thanks, Bro." He walked off to his room, leaving his older brother alone in the kitchen.

Dirk yawned and grabbed the tv remote, turning on the television set out of boredom. There was some show on about psychology and family problems and all that shit that most people were worried about these days. Whatever.

Just as he was about to change the channel, a commercial popped up on the screen: "Don't have enough sweet things in your life? Well don't worry, Betty Crocker Fruit Gushers have got you covered! These delicious snacks will..."

That voice. He knew that voice...

He waited until the end of the commercial, when the voice said: "My name is Jane Crocker and I approve of this quality product!"

Jane Crocker.

Dirk grinned. He was still a bit wet and freezing, but things were looking up. This had been a pretty good Tuesday after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Saturday:**

"So, Janey... What's going on with you and Dirk?"

Jane rolled her eyes as she heard her best friend's question. Roxy was a good person, but she got caught up in gossip too often.

At the moment the two of them were spending some time at the Crocker estate, Jane's home away from home. It was a nice place right on the outskirts of town, with state of the art everything. Television, computer systems, indoor pools... It had it all. Every once in a while the head of Betty Crocker would let Jane spend a few days in this place, mainly as an incentive to keep her working on all those commercials that she endorsed. This time the old lady had let Roxy tag along, even if Jane's friend had a deep hatred for "the batter witch" (as if that was actually a thing).

"Dirk? Who's that?" She asked, pretending to focus on the script for the next Crocker commercial that she was holding. "I don't know any Dirk."

"Come on, you know I'm talking about Strider!" Roxy exclaimed. "My little sis told me that you two did some "talking" at the grocery store."

"Your little sis..." Jane repeated, tilting her head to look at Roxy. "You mean Rose? How would she know anything about that?"

"Because Dirk's bro told her, duh," Roxy replied. "Those two are crazy tight, Jane."

"Oh," Jane said. Did that mean that Dirk had told his brother about their encounter? That was interesting. "Well nothing happened, so you can relax, Rox."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Roxy asked. "You can't say nothing happened! You talked to Dirk Strider! Do you know how anti-social that guy can be?"

"He seemed fine to me," Jane replied. "Even if he refused to take his glasses off."

"All the Striders do that, Janey," Roxy informed. "Their eye colours are like this huge impenetrable mystery thing. Some people say they're blind, and that's why they do it. What do you think?"

"I know they're not blind," Jane answered. "Dirk made that much obvious. But I don't know anything else... You said it was a big mystery, right?"

"Yup."

"The kind of mystery that would need a gutsy gumshoe?"

"Janey, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that someone could get to the bottom of this, Rox. Someone like me."

**Sunday: **

Dirk was in the middle of doing absolutely nothing when he got the text.

Now, keep in mind that Dirk's version of doing absolutely nothing was very different from the average person's. When Dirk did absolutely nothing, it was an important nothing, a contemplative nothing. He liked to think of it as ironic nothing, personally. Dave said it was a dumbass nothing, but seriously now, fuck Dave. What did he know about these things? Nothing. Sweet, ironic nothing. The kind of nothing that should definitely not get interrupted by a text.

_Beep! Beep!_

Sighing, Dirk reluctantly picked up his cell and skimmed over the new message. Shit, it was from Dave. That was never good news.

_bro. roof. now. don't bring cal. _

That text was quickly followed by another one, also from Dave:

_ where doing it man. where MAKING THIS HAPEN_

"God damn it, Dave," Dirk slammed his cell down on his desk and stormed out of his room, grabbing the nearest sword and making his way up the stairs to the roof. Why did his little bro always have to pull shit like this? It was fucking ridiculous. Definitely not the kind of thing that he'd do in any possible alternate reality. No, there was not one single chance of that. He was sure of it.

Before long he was on the roof, waiting for Dave to make his move. The sun beat down on his frame as he took a few steps forward, the heat of it making him regret wearing his jacket today. It looked like things had warmed up considerably since Tuesday.

"You bring Cal?"

Dirk turned to find Dave standing near the edge of the roof, facing his older brother with his hands tucked into the pockets of his white jeans. He didn't seem to be holding any kind of weapon.

"C'mon," Dirk laughed. "I don't need Lil Cal to kick your ass, Dave. Even if he is the shit."

"Lil Cal is creepy as fuck," Dave replied. "And you know it."

"We both know this isn't about Cal," Dirk said. "Why do you want to fight this time, little bro?"

"Just got a call from Rose," Dave answered. "She wants to know what happened between you and Crocker. I guess she owes Roxy a favour or something, I don't know. So here's the deal: I win, you tell me what happened. You win, I help you find out more about Jane. Sound good?"

"Hm..." Dirk considered the offer. May as well. It wasn't like he was going to lose, after all. "Okay."

"Sweet. Ready when you are, bro."

Dirk held out his arm and gave Dave a thumbs down. "Bring it."

Dave pulled out a slightly mangled puppet head, displaying it to Dirk with a smirk. "Alright."

"You little shit," Dirk's eyes narrowed as he stared at the puppet head. "You did _not_ do that to one of my puppets."

"Sure looks like I did."

Dirk raised his sword and leapt forward.

Dave tossed the puppet head off the side of the building and drew his own sword.

It was on.

**Monday: **

Jane was doing pretty much everything when she got the call.

School had just ended an hour or so ago, and she was currently trying to balance an essay on endangered whales, a ten-page science report, and the ongoing case of the mystery Strider eyes. That case was going pretty well, actually. She already had some pretty good clues and theories, and Roxy said she had managed to find an actual eye-witness. That was more than she could see for most cases.

Because she was so busy, she almost didn't answer the call when she saw it. Caller ID had no idea who was calling, and that usually wasn't a good sign. But for some reason she gave in and answered. It couldn't be too bad, right?

"Jane Crocker here," She didn't try to hide the edgy tone in her voice.

"Sup, Crocker. Strider here."

Jane's eyes widened. "_Dirk_ Strider?"

"Uh, no, it's Dave. You know, the actually awesome one?"

Jane's excitement level dropped considerably. "Oh. You couldn't have said that earlier?"

"Well I kinda assumed I was the main Strider. Anyway, I have a question for you."

"And I'm supposed to care because...?"

"Shut it Crocker, this is some actually serious shit. Are you free tomorrow?"

"Why do you want to know?" Jane asked.

"Hey, I personally don't give a shit, but I kinda owe my bro a favour now. And he wants to know if you're free tomorrow."

"Wait..." Jane said. "You're talking about Dirk?"

"'Course."

Jane perked up. "Tell him I'm free."

"Will do, your bakerness," There was a brief pause before Jane heard Dave shout away from the phone: "BRO, SHE'S FREE!"

There was another pause.

"Okay, he says you should meet him at that grocery store at 1. Sound good?"

"Uh-huh," Jane couldn't help nodding frantically as she replied.

"Sweet. Later."

"Wait, Dave..."

"Yeah?"

"How did you get this number?"

"I have my ways. Have fun with my bro, Crocker. Don't do anything crazy."

And then the call was over.

Jane grinned. Dirk wanted to see her again, and there was a set date and location for it. If she was lucky, she might even see his eyes!

Tomorrow was going to be pretty great.


	3. Chapter 3

**Tuesday:**

"So what's the plan, bro?"

Dirk smiled in amusement at his younger bro's question. It was always pretty funny when Dave got involved in these things.

"Why don't you tell me what you think it is?"

"Okay, knowing you, you're probably gonna lay down some sick beats," Dave began, spinning around on his rotating chair. "Maybe something about puppets. And then I'll burst out and be all like "sup" and she'll say "who's this douchebag?" and then I'll burst into the next part of the rap and blow her mind."

"Dave…"

"C'mon bro, listen to me here. I'll even try one out for you. You ready?"

"Dave…"

"Sweet," Dave jumped to his feet and started his rap. "Yo your name's _Jane_ and you been through some _pain_ but there's a lot to _gain_ if you just listen to my words they're real_ plain_!"

"Dave…"

"See that night with all the _rain_ you helped me find that _AJ_ and I thought that was really fucking _great_ because - "

"Dave," Dirk stood and put his hand over his younger brother's mouth. "Seriously, give it a fucking break. I'm not going to rap to her, okay? Also, the last part of that rap was really shitty. Rhyming rain with AJ with great? You were pushing it."

"Whatever," Dave grumbled, sitting back down and moving to his computer. "You just couldn't handle the beats I was laying down."

Dirk chuckled. "Just like I couldn't handle your "sick" fighting skills?"

Dave picked a spare puppet off the ground and tossed it at Dirk, the small plush bouncing off the older Strider's head. "Fuck you."

"I love you too, baby Bro." Dirk ruffled Dave's hair. "Hey, don't you have a date today or something?"

"Huh?" Dave asked. "Oh yeah, I'm meeting up with Harley at 12. Why?"

"It's 11:55," Dirk replied. "Wherever you want to meet her, it better not be far."

"Shit," Dave jumped from his chair and rushed to the door, grabbing his coat in the process. "We're meeting downtown."

"Yeah, you're not going to make that."

"No shit," Dave snapped, pushing the door open. "Later."

"You're wearing a coat?" Dirk asked. "But it's not even cold outsi -"

The door slammed shut.

"Okay then."

So, Dirk had the whole place to himself for a full hour. He could do anything. He could spend the time catching up on homework, picking the right clothes for meeting up with Crocker, or… wait, Dave's computer was still on. And he was logged into pesterchum.

Dirk smiled.

Over the next hour, several people received pesterchum messages from turntechGodhead. These messages included:

"_hey harley, looks like i'm going to miss our date. that's what i get for being a pathetic asshole who doesn't even understand irony. also, my bro is insanely cooler than me. i wish i could reach his levels of irony. spread the word._",

"_john. i love you. lots of homo._"

"_yo lalonde, i've been thinking. it'd be crazy ironic if i decided to spend an hour having you do some of that psycho-analyzing shit to me. you free tomorrow?_"

Needless to say, Dirk had done his job.

**An hour later…**

The more Dirk thought about it, the more he realized that waiting on the roof for Jane wasn't the best idea.

She would probably be looking inside the grocery store, after all, and he didn't think she would even be able to get up here if she _did _see him. Plus he looked a bit suicidal with his legs dangling off the edge of the building like this. Oh well.

He checked his watch: 1:15. It looked like she wasn't going to be able to make it. He probably should have expected that, in all honesty. Why would she want to see him again? She was a famous rich girl and he was just a guy with some shades and a weird puppet fetish.

"Are you sure that's safe?"

Dirk smiled, not turning to face the newcomer. He knew who it was. "You came."

"Well after your brother's_ charming _proposal, how could I do anything else?"

Jane Crocker stepped into Dirk's field of view, sitting next to him on the edge of the roof.

"Yeah, Dave's not the best at being polite," Dirk chuckled. "But he knew your number, so I let him give it a shot. How bad was he?"

"He could definitely learn a few things from you," Jane replied. "But I guess I should have expected that, huh? You were probably like that at his age."

"Whoa whoa whoa," Dirk held up his hands in alarm. "Let's not go to that extreme, Crocker. I was a lot better than he is, trust me."

"Uh-huh," Jane didn't sound convinced. "So why'd you want to see me, buster? I'm pretty busy, you know."

Dirk shrugged. "Just wanted to talk, I guess. I kinda owe you one after you helped me find that apple juice. Which reminds me…" He rummaged through the backpack he had brought and pulled out a bottle of apple juice. "Thirsty?"

Jane laughed. "Sure, why not?" Dirk tossed the bottle and she caught it with ease. "So, do you come here often?"

"Not really. I don't shop if I can help it. Usually I just order takeout if I have to eat, or something along those lines. But I guess you don't have those kinds of problems, huh?"

"Not really. I can bake just about anything, so I do that. It's fun."

"We have very different definitions of "fun", Crocker."

Jane swatted at him playfully. "So what do you think is fun, then, mister mysterious?"

"Hm, good question," Dirk paused. "I guess I like some things. Building robots, making up raps, leaving the heads of my enemies in courtyards... You know, typical cool kid stuff."

"Leaving the heads of your enemies in courtyards?" Jane raised her eyebrow as she repeated the words. "Is there something you haven't been telling me, Mister Strider."

"I'm afraid there is, your royal highness Crocker," Dirk stared down in a way that he hoped looked regretful. "It turns out I'm secretly an assassin, and not a teenage boy at all. It was all a ruse to set you up for… _This!_"

With that he tackled her so she was farther from the edge of the roof, making sure only the minimum amount of force was used. "It's over now, Crocker. You've been defeated by a master."

"Oh yes?" Jane asked, a smirk on her face. "How will "the master" defeat the power of my tickle fighting?"

Dirk froze. "You wouldn't."

"I'm afraid I would, master assassin."

"Now let's just slow down for a second, Crocker. Maybe we shouldn't get carried away he - Ah!"

Dirk couldn't help breaking into laughter as Jane tickled him, leaving him utterly helpless and at her mercy. He may be the coolest kid around, but even he was no match against the power of a tickle master.

"No… Jane…" Dirk managed to spit the words out between laughs. "Stop…"

Suddenly there was a bumping noise, as if something had fallen. Dirk opened his eyes to find Jane staring at him, eyes wide with surprise. Her face looked surprisingly bright.

"What is it?" He asked. "What are you looking at?"

Then it hit him. It wasn't just her face that looked bright: it was everything. His shades had fallen off. That had been the bumping noise. And now Jane could see right into his stupid, stupid eyes.

"Shit," Dirk jumped to his feet, grabbed his shades, and rushed to the door that had given him access to the roof. "I have to go."

"Dirk…" Jane began. "Wait!"

He opened the door and rushed through, slamming it behind him.

**Elsewhere:**

"I've got 'em."

Spades Slick lowered his binoculars as he spoke into his walkie talkie (or "communication device", as he liked to call it).

"You found Jane Crocker?"

"'Course I did," Slick dusted off his trench coat as he talked. "Found someone else with her, too. Some kid with shades."

"What are they doing now?"

"Now? Now they're doing nothing. The kid just left, looked pretty upset. Want me to tail him?"

There was no response.

"Batterwitch?"

"I told you not to call me that, Slick."

"Yeah, whatever. You want me to tail the kid or not? He's getting away."

"Follow him. Bring the rest of the Midnight Crew. Once he gets home, I want you to interrogate him, see what he knows. Make it messy. Throw chairs around, break things, whatever you do. Just make sure he's not conscious when you leave."

"And if he ain't home alone?"

"Kill any witnesses. That's the usual policy, Slick. You know that."

"Alright," Slick said. "I'll tell you when we're done."

He put away the walkie-talkie and adjusted the brim of his hat. He had a job to do, and damn if he wasn't going to do it well. This kid wouldn't know what hit him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Tuesday:**

It was still Tuesday, and Dirk was feeling like shit.

He kicked a can as he walked down the street, staring down at the sidewalk the entire time. He was completely lost right now, but he didn't care at all. He just needed to be away from Jane Crocker for a while.

Shit, he had really fucked up back there, hadn't he? He shouldn't have left like that. But she had seen his eyes. She would probably never see him the same way again. After all, who would want to talk to some loser with freak eyes?

His phone beeped. He ignored it. Probably just Dave, texting him to complain about the pesterchum prank. It could wait.

"Hey my motherfucker. How'd you like to be getting some knowledge all up in that motherfucking think pan of yours?"

A strange, lanky man stepped in out of nowhere, grinning at Dirk with a dozy look in his eyes. His face was covered in white makeup, and his pure black hair was a mess of twists and curls. It was _him_. The clown.

"What do you want?" Dirk asked, his hands curling into fists.

"Just thought I'd help a motherfucker out," The clown replied, his hands digging their way into the pockets of his polka-dotted pants. "Unless you already spotted those four who been all up and following you."

"Who?" Dirk asked.

"Those motherfuckers, that's who," The clown pointed to the other side of the street.

Dirk turned to find four men standing directly across the street from him, all of them staring as intently as they could manage. They were all wearing black suits and trench coats, which seemed odd, considering the weather. Of the four, that one that really caught Dirk's eye was the hunching, skinny one in the middle, the one with the wide-brimmed hat. Once he noticed Dirk staring, he growled and pulled a knife from one of his coat pockets. Dirk smiled and showed the guy what his middle finger looked like.

Next he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

"This is Dave," His brother's voice chimed.

"Hey bro, it's Dirk. Just wanted to let you know that I'm about to get my ass kicked. Should be home by seven. Later." Dirk hung up before his bro could reply.

"Thanks, clown," He nodded to the clown, who was still gazing around distantly. "I owe you a bottle of faygo."

Then he turned and crossed the street.

**Elsewhere:**

"You're late."

The words sprung to greet Jane as she closed the front door to her house, freezing her in her tracks.

Her father sat in his favourite chair, one leg crossed over the other as he browsed through the day's newspaper. An unlit pipe sat rested in his mouth, and she knew he had no intention of using it. He had a calm and casual air to him today. _Too _calm and casual.

"Hi dad," Jane waved. "Sorry about that. Roxy was trying to pull me into some school drama again."

"_School_ drama, huh?" Her dad's eyes didn't move from the newspaper as he talked. "I guess that explains why the school called to report your absence?"

"Oh, uh, that," Jane shifted nervously. "That was just a silly misunderstanding. The teacher forgot to mark me as present, see, and - "

"Jane. You know I won't stand for lies under my roof. Why were you away from school?"

"I wasn't!" Jane protested. "I told you!"

"Jane…"

"I didn't do anything! Just… Leave me alone!" Jane tore open the door and stormed out of the house, not looking back once.

**Dirk:**

"What are you lookin' at, kid?"

Dirk faced the man with the knife coldly, not at all fazed by the danger he or his crew might pose. "I'm looking at the four assholes who have been stalking me. What did you think?"

"You think you're some kind of wise guy, huh?" The knife guy snarled. "Well, we'll just have to show you what we think of wise guys. Won't we, fellas?"

"Yeah," The big guy on the left agreed.

"Hmph," A stylish, lean fellow to the right grumbled.

"Can I do my happy umbrella dance now?" Asked the last member of the crew, a pudgy little guy with a purple umbrella.

"Can it, Deuce," The knife guy spat before turning back to Dirk. "The point is, kid, we're gonna have some words with you. We were gonna wait until you got home, but we might as well do it now, since you approached us."

Dirk nodded. "Alright, lay it on me."

"We wanna know what ya know about the Crocker girl," The big guy cracked his knuckles as he spoke.

"Jane? I know what everyone knows about her. She's the heir to the Crocker fortune, she's in a lot of ads, and she bakes things. That's about it, guys. Sorry for wasting your time."

"I don't think you're being honest with us, kid," The knife guy took a step forward. "What do you _really _know?"

"I know that if you don't take a step back, I am seriously going to wreck your shit."

"Heh," The knife guy sneered. "Boxcars, he's all yours."

"Alright," The big guy said, the others all backing away to give him room. "But before I do this, I gotta know: Did ya kiss the girl, boy?"

"Did I kiss the - What? No," Dirk shook his head. "That's ridiculous."

"You should have said yes," The little guy - Dirk thought his name was Deuce or something - whispered.

"Oh," Dirk said, turning to the big guy. "You're going to beat the shit out of me now, aren't you?"

"Pretty much."

Dirk gulped. He shouldn't have left his sword at home.

**Dave:**

Dave was having a really shitty day.

It had started when his bro had turned down his rap idea, though that wasn't too bad. He was used to rejection by now. But then he had completely forgotten about his date with Harley, so he had grabbed his coat and ran off, ignoring the fact that it was way too fucking hot outside for a coat. And once he had managed to get himself to the nearest subway station, a collision shut down the lines for a whole fucking hour. Add that to the fact that the actual subway ride to get downtown took a good 45 minutes (it was a big city, after all), and it had been a long trip. Harley was going to be really disappointed.

Oh, and at one point John had called to tell him that Dirk had pulled some pranking shit on pesterchum or something, but that wasn't important.

At the moment he was finally making his way out of the subway station, walking onto the city streets. He had texted Dirk a few minutes ago, just to let him know that everything was alright, but his bro hadn't responded. Oh well. Anyway, Harley had said she would be waiting somewhere around here…

"Dave!" Jade jumped out of nowhere, tackling Dave into a hug.

He hugged her back. "Hey Harley. Sorry for being so late. The subway just doesn't respect cool kids like me."

"It's fine!" Jade beamed up at him, and he couldn't help but crack a smile at how perfect she looked in her blue t-shirt and skirt. "I was running a bit late anyways."

"Sweet," Dave replied. "Now, why don't we - "

_Bring! _That was his cell.

"Shit, it's probably my bro. Sorry Harley, gotta take this," Dave pulled out his phone and put it to his ear. "This is Dave."

"Hey bro, it's Dirk. Just wanted to let you know that I'm about to get my ass kicked. Should be home by seven. Later." The call ended.

"So who was it?" Jane asked eagerly as Dave put the phone away.

"My bro, like I thought," Dave answered. "Apparently he's about to get his ass kicked."

"Oh," Jade frowned. "Should we help him?"

"Nah. He's tougher than me, he'll be fine. Plus I have no idea where the fuck he is. He's probably just fucking around again."

**Dirk: **

Dirk was definitely not just fucking around again.

He didn't know why anyone would think that he was, actually. If they could see him, they'd know that he was in some serious trouble.

See, he had never been much of a hand-to-hand fighter. He could fight with a sword or a puppet, but give him an old-fashioned fist fight and he'd be done in a minute. Unfortunately, his opponent obviously didn't have the same problem.

Hearts Boxcars swung his fist forward, and Dirk just barely managed to duck out of the way in time. He wasn't so lucky with the next blow.

"You're in over your head, boy," Boxcar punched Dirk right in the face, rattling his entire world. "Should've just told us what ya know."

"I…" Dirk stumbled backwards, his head reeling from the strike. "I told you, I don't know anything. How hard is it to understand?"

"Not what ya need to say," Boxcars pulled back his hand, presumably for another hit.

Dirk laughed, wiping blood off his face with his arm. "Try me."

He glanced over to the guy with the knife. They were just a few feet away from each other, close enough for Dirk to breach the gap in seconds. Good.

Before Boxcars could do anything, Dirk was sprinting towards the knife guy (he seriously needed to figure out this person's name), knocking the knife from his hands and grabbing it before it could hit the ground.

"What are you - " The knife guy looked back and forth in confusion. "Oh, you little shit!"

"Yeah, fuck you too," Dirk turned back to Boxcars. "Hey, big guy! Catch!"

He tossed the knife, and the small weapon flew right into Boxcars' shoulder, making the giant man cry out in pain. That should help for the moment.

"Get back here!" The knife guy reached into his coat and pulled out… Another knife.

"Oh, c'mon," Dirk complained. "This is complete bullshit."

"Deal with it, kid," The guy with the knife began running forward, and Dirk braced himself.

That was when Boxcars decided to come back.

"Bad move, boy."

The giant man's fists slammed down onto the back of Dirk's head, blasting him into the sidewalk face-first.

"What now, kid?" The knife guy asked. "You gonna tell us what you know?"

"Holy shit!" Dirk pushed himself up, grunting from the pain of the attack. His shades were on the ground, but at this point he was too beaten to care. "I don't know a fucking thing, dumbass! How many times do I have to say it?"

There was a silent pause, with all the members of the strange group looking at each other in an attempt to figure out their next move. Eventually the knife guy spoke up.

"Alright, fine. You don't know anything. But we can't just let you go. You gotta make us a promise first."

"What?"

"You're gonna leave the girl alone. You got that?"

Dirk paused. He shouldn't agree to this, he knew it. But god damn it, he was tired and sore, stuck without a weapon or a friend, and he really didn't think he could take much more of this. He gave in.

"Fine!" He shouted. "I'll leave her alone! I'll never even fucking glance at her, okay? Are you happy now?"

He turned to go. The short guy with the umbrella tried to stop him, but he shoved the annoying little asshole to the side and left, some kind of liquid welling up in his eyes. No, those weren't tears. They definitely weren't tears. Dirk Strider never cried. It simply wasn't a thing that happened.

**Jane:**

Jane ran down the street, not paying any attention to where she was going. She didn't care about her destination. She was too angry to care, really. Angry at her dad, angry at Dirk, angry at herself. She was really just pissed off at everyone.

It was still hot outside, and the warm air clung to her flesh as she ran. She was mostly alone now, except for one other guy who was walking on the opposite side of the street. Good. She didn't need any extra human interaction.

Wait, was that guy on the other side of the street limping? It looked like it. She should probably go help him out.

"Excuse me!" She crossed the street as she called out to the limping guy. "Are you okay?"

"Crocker?"

Jane stopped. Oh god, it was him. She hadn't recognized him at first, probably because he wasn't wearing those pointed shades of his, but it was him. Dirk Strider.

He looked terrible. His face was covered with bruises, his left eye looked swollen, and blood was pouring from his nose. She was surprised that he was even able to stand, let alone walk.

"Dirk?" She rushed over to him as quickly as she could. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing," Dirk spat, lightly pushing her away. "Just... Leave me alone, okay?"

"Don't push me away like that," Jane pleaded. "Dirk, tell me what happened."

"Nothing happened!" Dirk whirled around as he screamed at her. "Nothing fucking happened, Crocker. Just fuck off, will you? I don't need you giving me shit like this."

"What?" Jane asked, taking a step back. "Dirk, what are you saying?"

"I'm…" Dirk looked down at the ground. "I'm saying that I don't want to see you again. Ever."

"Dirk, you don't mean that," Jane said. "Did someone make you do this?"

"No," Dirk replied bitterly. "This is my fucking choice, and I'll live with it. Now go home to your perfect house with your perfect, like the spoiled brat you are. Go home and leave me alone."

With that, he turned and hobbled away, leaving Jane alone in the all-too-warm night.


End file.
